


The Baguette Saga

by thepessimisticasshole



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Bad Puns, Crack, Crack Fic, i don't know what to tell you, into baguettes, it was a spur of the moment thing, it's a magic spell and they turn into bread, they turn into bread
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepessimisticasshole/pseuds/thepessimisticasshole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>baz and agatha turn into bread.</p><p>it's certainly an adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Baguette Saga

**Author's Note:**

> I.
> 
> Yes. So. I wrote this forever ago- in fact, this was my first actual fic. Ever.
> 
> And then I forgot to upload it onto Ao3.
> 
> Enjoy..?

agatha isn’t leaving him alone.

agatha isn’t leaving him alone and honestly baz is just fed up with it. he has enough on his plate without the constant ‘looks’ from agatha and decidedly less sultry ‘looks’ from snow.

the thing about agatha is that she has the uncanny ability to predict where you’re going to be- baz found that out the hard way while prowling the ramparts at night (although, according to snow, she is out there quite a bit). he nearly jumped off the side when she appeared in from of his, all white ribbons and flowing nightgown and longing expression.

and now she’s practically running behind him to catch up. god, he just wants a  _snack_. is that too much to ask for?

he slips inside the mess hall, whips around, and agatha nearly runs full tilt into him. she would have, too, if he hadn’t grabbed her forearms and steadied her. she looks through her eyelashes at him.

“oh! hi, baz.”

“wellbelove.”

he lets go of her and straightens his green jumper, turning to go.

“so, what brings you here?” she says hastily, before he can leave.

“hungry.”

her eyes widen a little bit, and baz groans internally. _Snow_. he’s hungry for _food_ , goddamn it.

he gestures behind himself. “well, if that’s all…”

“actually, i was feeling hungry too,” she says brightly. baz huffs out a sigh.

“wellbelove- agatha. i’m flattered, but please could you leave me alone?”

her mouth turns down in a perfect pout. “i’m just _hungry_ , basilton.”

they both know she’s not. baz rolls his eyes.

“i am!”

“you’ve been following me for _weeks_ ,” says baz abruptly. ah well, better now than never. “don’t think i haven’t noticed.”

“i haven’t!”

“you have! of course you have- half your lessons are on the opposite side of the school, and yet you’re consistently outside my classes. i saw you in the _catacombs_ , agatha.”

agatha glares. “that doesn’t prove _anything_.” she has her wand out, and baz eyes it warily. she isn’t very powerful, but she knows some nasty spells. better tread carefully.

“i don’t _like_ you, agatha. i have never see you in a romantic light.” he winces internally- so much for delicately handling the situation.

her eyes flood with tears and her cheeks redden. she points her wand at him. “ **penny for your thoughts**!”

“i’m in love with simon snow,” baz blurts, then claps his hand over his mouth. agatha looks just as shocked. she glares and aims her wand at him again.

“ **a world of pain**!”

baz braces himself for agony, squeezing his eyes shut, but all he feels is a slight pop somewhere in the region on his stomach and an odd shrinking sensation. he warily cracks open one eye-

he’s a lot shorter than he used to be, and he appears to be resting on a table. he tries to wriggle his fingers, but can’t- in fact, it doesn’t feel like he even _has_ fingers. he feels an odd weight on his back.

rolling his eyes as far as they can go, he spots agatha- at least, he thinks it’s agatha. she appears to be-

oh no.

pain.

pain is french for bread.

he’s overcome with an unexpected fit of giggles- _bagatha_.

he’s a _baguette_.

that’s when snow walks in.

of course he makes straight for the table.

baz does his best to wiggle his yeasty body away from simons hand. normally the close proximity would leave him blushing, but today is different. for one, he’s a piece of bread. also simon is about to eat him, which puts a damper on most relationships.

—————————Simon———————————————-

simon glares at the oddly animated piece of bread rolling away from him and makes a desperate snatch at it. it heaves itself off the side of the table.

“huh,” thinks simon. “that’s probably not supposed to happen.”

but it is now floor food, and therefore inedible.

simon turns his attention to the remaining baguette, which is emitting a very faint shriek. he shrugs, picked it up, and takes a large bite out of it.

farewell, bagatha. you won’t be missed.

* * *

**the sequel** : 

baz is on the floor.

which would be fine. it would be okay. but tonight he was a baguette.

he rolls towards the door. it’s more difficult than he would have previously imagined (although he doesn’t know why he would ever imagine this scenario). there are little divots in the floor and it takes all of his strength to get through those.

he’s nearly at the door when he remembers his wand.

and it’s all the way across the room.

he curses, fluently. it’s almost morning- any second now, people will be straggling into the mess hall for breakfast. there’s no way he’ll escape unscathed.

and then-

a shiny black shoe. knee high socks. a skirt- it’s bunce.

he begins to scream as loudly as his bread-y vocal chords can manage (how they can manage anything, he doesn’t know, but he isn’t about to complain).

“ _BUNCE! HEY, BUNCE_!”

She glances around, and he rolls about frantically. her eyebrows scrunch together. he keeps yelling.

“what the fuck is going on,” she asks nobody in particular, and stoops to pick him up. the puzzled expression drops away as she notices his face on the baguette.

“ _jesus_!”

baz yelps as penny fumbles him. she holds him up close to her face.

“is that- _baz_? what the hell are you _doing_?”

“it’s wellbelove’s fault!”

“where is agatha?”

baz cringes. “never mind that now, bunce- change me back!”

she casts **back to start** and baz drops to the floor with a thump, shuddering. bunce is staring at him.

“why were you _bread_?”

“that’s not important.” it is important, actually, but baz really doesn’t want to discuss it. he fetches his wand and strides out of the room.

he’s never eating a baguette again.

 

* * *

 

**the thrilling end to the saga:**

it had been months since the bread incident.

baz should be fine. he should be okay. but he can’t eat without checking each bite for tiny faces. he can’t sleep without remembering snow’s hand scrabbling towards him like a giant fleshy crab.

plus, snow’s blaming him for the mysterious dissapearance of agatha.

surprisingly, little fuss was raised over it- it’s mostly just simon banging about the school, following him into the catacombs and glaring constantly. baz considers telling him what happened, just to get it out of the way- unfortunately, he know that snow will probably have a massive meltdown over it.

_honestly_.

baz doesn’t know how to feel about his surreal experience- bunce keeps giving him odd looks in the hallways. he can’t lame her, though- it’s not everyday you see your best friend’s enemy turned into a loaf of gently steaming bread.

baz can’t get the smell out of him. it’s in his hair, his clothes, his very pores. their dormitory smells like freshly baked bread every morning. even his (very expensive) soap makes hardly a dent in the yeasty odor.

maybe that’s what happened to the goatherd- she got turned into something odd and now surrounded herself with disgusting animals to hide from the scent.

probably not.

but she was on to something.

—————–

baz slips into the forest, midnight shadows playing sinisterly across his face.

he was on a mission.

a very important mission.

his feet pad silently through the crunchy leaves, predator’s glide kicking in automatically. it’s dark- the moon peeks through the canopy of trees overhead.

baz hears a sound; possibly chanting, but quiet, and slightly- dry?

he tracks it, twisting and turning until he’s hopelessly lost-

and then he sees them.

a roaring bonfire, surrounded by dancing silhouettes. they’re small, round, skinny; a feeling begins to build in his stomach, foreboding.

and then the fire roars high, and baz sees them.

baguettes. tens, hundreds- they’re everywhere. they’ve spotted him, are beginning to turn, flooding towards him-

baz wakes up, panting fast and heavily.

a dream.

just a dream.

he tries to control his breathing, and it gradually slows. he tries to raise his arms, to knuckle his eyes. they don’t respond.

something’s wrong.

his eyes fly open-

he’s in a golden room with brick walls and silver shelves. all around him rises the sound of chattering, but he can’t see any people-

oh no.

his eyes drop to the shelves themselves, and they’re packed with breads of all sorts.

oh _god,_ no.

something nudges him back, and he turns with difficultly to see-

“baz!” bagatha smiles like nothing could be wrong. “you’re awake!”

_no_. _**no**_.

it was all a dream. simon, bunce, watford- all of it.

this is his life.

and he’s just a piece of bread.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I just copy pasted from where it's posted on my tumblr and didn't bother to edit because it's three in the morning. There're probably mistakes. I'm sorry


End file.
